


A Geek and an Athlete

by piratecats



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bets, Eventual Happy Ending, M/M, Marco can't cook, ahhh you need to try a hazelnut macchiato soo good, dont drink alcohol kids, dont gamble children, lots of smart people, not French Jean Kirstein, starbucks yaaay, whoop whoop party time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-21
Updated: 2014-04-30
Packaged: 2018-01-13 07:29:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 18,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1217671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piratecats/pseuds/piratecats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean didn't want to admit it, but he was a nerd.<br/>Marco knew he wasn't the best at school.<br/>Follow these two nerds as they meet each other, tutor each other and maybe fall in love with each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Jean's opinion on French

Jean didn't want to admit it, but he was a nerd.

 

Not that being a nerd was bad in his school- after all, it was frequently whispered in his school that 'A' stood for A-failure-to-society. Wearing his square framed glasses, he carried his Starbucks and wandered down the corridors. One would typically expect such a corridor to be filled with children, screaming and zooming down the corridor. Not at his school. Living in Britain, he attended a grammar school. Intelligence was nearly revered upon, instead of mocked.

 

People like Jean were often treated as holy, omniscient, and quite generally perfect. Jean didn't mind, it's just that... he wasn't. Being honest with himself, he knew that he was outstanding at almost all subjects. There was just one subject that he abhorred, completely detested and failed in. This subject was French.

 

**"KRISCHTEIN! ARE YOU EVEN PAYING ATTENTION!"**

Snapping out of his reverie, he was confronted by a tiny midget that normally would not be terrifying had he not slammed his fists on his work.

"Sorry... what? I wasn't really listening, sir"

**"That's Mr Rivaille to you."**

"Yeah, and my surname is Kirschtein but you never seem to notice that."

Gasps and sniggers reverberated around the class.

**"Well, Krischtein, I don't give a shit what your name is. Answer my question." **

 

Mr Rivaille was notorious for frequently swearing in lessons. Although he was a trainee teacher, he was barely above 21 and although he appeared harsh, he often was sympathetic to students that he liked. Jean was not one of these students. A few students knew him outside of class, and as a result it would not be unexpected to see your French teacher casually chatting with schoolmates in a coffee shop.

 

**"Translate je peux faire ce que je veux."**

"Um… I.. am able… to…"

**"God, could you be any slower Krischtein?"**

"I'm trying! This is difficult!"

**"Anybody else want to have a go?"**

 

And embarrassingly, the rest of the class raised their hands.

 

Mr Rivaile picked some French nerd (he was sitting right at the front, just behind the teacher's desk- God, how much must he like this subject) and he prattled off the answer. The twat practically shone- no, he **glowed** with excitement as he conversed in French, and Jean found himself wondering who this weirdo was. Ahh, yes, that's right, that boy was Marco Bodt. He was famous in their school for competing in the national championships for athletics, and had won.

 

After that, all Marco had to do was smile and girls fell at his feet. One time, Jean had seen Marco laugh at some besotted girl's joke, and she had literally passed out onto the floor, an insane smile etched on her lips. It only got worse after he picked her up and carried her to the nurse. For days after that, she was convinced that Marco loved her, and it took words from "the god" himself for that waffly girl to get the message. Jean still saw her making ridiculous love-heart gestures in the hallways at him, and Marco looking more than mildly alarmed. Jean could guess that he was probably your typical high school jock, a complete and utter jerk to the girls and acting confident while he was really just some massive wuss.

 

He could hear Mr Rivaille and the nerds conversing in French. This clearly was the group that he knew externally, and Jean wouldn't be surprised if they even talked in French then. God, he hated people who sucked up to the teachers. It wasn't that he was trying to piss Mr Rivaille off, it was just that he didn't understand the conjugations. He could never understand the difference between conditional and imperfect, a grave and acute, or how everybody else managed to get A*s while he barely scraped Cs. Seeing as he never understood the stupid subject, Jean merely decided to give up with it instead.

 

One example of him 'giving up' was when Jean struggled to translate the exercise correctly, and so decided to do something more meaningful with his time. Instead, he had worked on

 

"Mon professeur de français, qui s'appelle Mr Rivaille, est souvent grossier et impoli. Nous reçevons trop des devoirs, et je le trouve agaçant. Il agit grand, qui est amusant parce qu'il est très petit." ("My French teacher, who is called Mr Rivaille, is often rude and impolite. We receive too much homework, and I find him annoying. He acts big, which is funny because he is very small.)

 

The rest of the paragraph continued along the same vein. When Jean was discovered, instead of disciplining him, he was forced to write half a page about how amazing his French teacher was and read it out to the rest of the class. His face still burned with embarrassment after people such as Eren Jaeger found out, and after that he was never able to live it down.

 

Another incident was when they were supposed to be doing partner work, but Connie was sick (that bastard probably got hangover from drinking at Sasha's house) and so he was forced to do exercises with the teacher. The whole class had eventually turned around to watch, as the insults aimed got more creative. Naturally, Jean couldn't respond back, and so eventually he snapped and screamed at the top of his lungs that "LE FRANCAIS EST POUR DES IMBECILES!"  and stared challengingly back. All that was said was, _"_ **Par conséquent, tu est aussi un imbécile,"** and he carried on teaching.

 

The problem was that Jean couldn't understand why people loved French so much. After all, what was so enjoyable about the language? Turning his gaze fiercely onto Marco again, he tried to comprehend. It certainly wasn't the way his lips curved around each syllable, or how his smooth, polished tone rounded out vowels. Why study French when you could choose Latin? Admittedly, it was a dead language, but it was so much more preferable- that followed a set of grammar rules; it could be considered mathematical as it was logical. By studying Latin, for example, you could learn the etymology of almost the whole of the English language and even some others, and from that, guess their basic meaning, and-

 

Jean didn't want to admit it, but he was a nerd.


	2. It's not just French he hates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean's now forced do to P.E, a subject that the majority of his class are good at. He's the exception. 
> 
> Will a certain Freckled Jesus help him out with his dreaded enemy, the hurdles?

And this nerd also hated P.E.

 

He understood the principles of it, but what he didn't understand was why everyone else was just so damn good at it. It was probably because more than half of them took it to GCSE level, but that didn't mean that they needed to put in all this effort. Steeling himself again, he struggled to jump over the hurdle. Finally succeeding, he punched the air in delight only to smack straight into the second hurdle. Collapsing on the floor, he didn't bother to get up until a shadow crossed over him.

 

_"Are you alright down there? Need a hand?"_

 

Unlike many other people surrounding him, this voice wasn't mocking or harsh. Instead, it was sympathetic and warm. Reaching out blindly for the proffered hand, Jean was boosted upwards and nearly crashed into the person's warm chest.

 

_"Woah, are you ok there? You looked like you took quite a hit."_

 

Jean was about to respond that he was fine, until he noticed the trail of freckles that spanned across his arm. Instead, he let out an affirmative grunt. It was embarrassing enough that Marco knew he was bad at French, but now P.E as well? His day was going from bad to worse. He decided that he didn't want to particularly become friends with this person- after all, he seemed like the kind of person to take a kick out of playing 'meaningless' pranks on others until it escalated out of control.

_"Erm... you can let go of my hand now."_

 

Snatching his hand away like it was poisoned, Jean struggled to keep his blush rising and gave a simple nod, then stalked off. It wasn't that he had no friends, it was just that he barely knew anybody in any of his classes and didn't want to. Marco was about to follow him, eager, but the teacher soon called on him to give a demonstration.

 

Silently thanking the teacher for ridding him of his 'friend,' Jean sat down on the grass to watch, as did many of his classmates. Marco took one deep breath before starting, and then he ran. Jean had never quite seen anything so entrancing. His form was perfect, his legs stretched out and instead of running, he danced, like a gazelle bounding across. With each hurdle he jumped over, his legs arched and swung neatly over. Instead of a hard thud hitting the ground, Marco dropped gracefully each time, and Jean could only watch in a stunned trance as he leapt over all of the hurdles.

 

As he came to a stop, the class burst into applause. (Correction: the girls in the class burst into applause. All of the other guys really couldn't care less.) Grinning easily in the sun, Marco stretched out his limbs and clambered over to everyone, only to trip on some small rock and crash. Laughing it off, he shook himself off and wandered over to the rest of the class. Jean was mildly amused that someone so graceful, so delicate in the air, could be completely clumsy and flat-footed on the ground.

 

**"And that's how you do it! Well done Marco, have a credit. Now, I want to all to partner up and continue this."**

 

Jean inwardly groaned. He didn't particularly like his class- all of them were either stupidly serious or seriously stupid. Then again, if he was with some over-enthusiastic freak, then at least they could try instead of Jean failing over and over. Craning his neck to see for anybody, he didn't notice Marco jogging over to him, ignoring the clamouring flock of girls begging to be his partner.

_"Hey... do you have a partner?"_

 

Jean suddenly realised that Marco was talking to him, and that he was also surrounded by girls hanging on to his every word, some giving Jean death stares.

 

"Umm... no? Not really, why?"

_"Great then! Can I go with you?"_

 

Marco's beaming smile did not bring Jean out of his surprise. Why would Marco, the 'star' of the school, want to go with him, a boy would could barely even jump and land on the ground without falling over? Shrugging in agreement, he turned away to let his confusion show on his face.

 

Being partnered with Marco wasn't actually too bad. While he tried to help Jean in every possible way that he could, it was clear that Jean was simply not built for athletics. It didn't help that Jean was completely unresponsive, instead preferring to sit back and not do any work. He had to give kudos to Marco though, he didn't snap or yell at him even once during the hour, even after Jean told him that "This sport is dumb ass stupid. Only idiots do athletics," before remembering that Marco had entered completions for this 'dumb ass' sport. He had merely chuckled at that, and carried on trying to teach him.

 

It was only when Jean was called up to the front to see what he had learnt this lesson. Damn it, it must have been because he was with that freckled idiot that he got chosen. He could hear people laughing and whispering, "Watch this," to their friends. It was well known that once Jean Kirstein gave up on a subject, he would be completely and utterly useless at it. With an air of resignation, he began jogging at the hurdles and desperately trying to jump over. It was only when he had surpassed the fourth hurdle that Jean realised what he was doing. He was actually succeeding in a sport. Resolute, he was determined to finish the track, and he managed to leap over all without knocking any over.

 

Staring defiantly back at the class, their shock mirroring how he felt, he smirked at them and sat back down. While it wasn't fast, his technique had been executed flawlessly, and Jean could now hear the surprise from everybody. He was only seconds away from flipping the bird at them, before he was suddenly dragged away by the over-enthusiastic teacher, Miss Hanji.

 

_"Oh wow Jean! I didn't know that you liked athletics! I mean, while that wasn't the fastest run in the world (Jean rolled his eyes at this, no shit Sherlock) I'm sure we can train you up, and maybe you could even start competing, I mean look at that form everybody did you see that? Ohh, Jean! I'm so glad we found this out!"_

 

Jean could gradually feel his amusement at finally having conquered the hurdles slowly draining and being replaced by dread. That insane woman hadn't even paused to take a breath, and she was still going. Toning her out, he directed an incredulous stare at Marco, who was slowly turning a light pink under Jean's glare. He raised his eyebrows at him, and Marco could only sheepishly rub his neck and avoid eye contact. So that twat had known this would happen! He should have known not to trust him, and now he was going to be slowly sucked alive by the P.E teacher, who was now staring at him, expectantly.

 

"Sorry, what? I didn't catch that..."

 

Her fervent smile was more than enough from Jean to blink back with a completely straight space.

 

**"No don't worry, I was just asking if you would consider joining the athletics-"**

"NO! NO!... I'm really okay, thanks."

**"Well okay, but if you ever want to-"**

"No, no, no I'm really fine. I'm kinda busy anyway."

**"Doing what? What's more important?"**

Geesh, this woman was clingy, Jean thought. She was now gripping his forearm desperately, probably hoping to recruit him. With a sigh, he finally managed to shake her off, despite her wailing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow ok so the P.E class was based on my actual P.E class because most of them are freaking giants and tower over me  
> we haven't actually done hurdles yet, but the majority of them are literally good at every sport so yeah, sucks to be me :(
> 
> moral of the story children don't do P.E


	3. Marco's POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco's introduced to the idea of the tuition, and also creates a little bit of a crisis.

Marco knew he wasn't the best at English.

 

I mean sure, he could do sports and languages, but he completely failed in any other subjects. He knew that the main problem was in English- he simply couldn't understand what parts to analyse, and he always forgot the technical vocabulary. While the people on his table tried to help, especially Armin, he knew that he was completely failing. He tried not to let it get him too down, but knew he had to come through somewhere. The teacher was sympathetic to him, gently motivating him.

 

**"Now you see here, what is implied when he says, 'What I mean is . . . maybe it’s only us'? Hmmm? What do you think, Marco?"**

 

His throat going dry, Marco hesitantly spoke up.

 

_"Well from what I can tell, Simon's figured out that the beast isn't literal..."_

Mr Pixis smiled encouragingly.

**"Good, anything else?"**

_"umm... Simon is the first to realise it and nobody else believes him?"_

**"Good! Good! Now, why do you think that?"**

Mr Pixis looked around the table, scouring for ideas, and Marco felt the weight roll off his shoulders. Armin looked as though he would explode if his latest point did not erupt from his mouth.

**"Well sir, this all fits in with Simon's character. As he's typically seen as a holy figure, somewhat resembling Jesus- this is also seen when he's sacrificed- it shows how he's able to see past the immediacy of human nature, and-"**

Marco stopped listening.

 

He really didn't understand how people could analyse English. What was it that they saw? And creative writing as well, how did people come up with these ideas? Whenever he wrote a piece, Marco would crumple it up, but one look at Armin's work and he would flush in shame at completely failing English. Luckily for him, he still had his athletics to fall back on, but no decent university would be willing to accept him if he only managed a B in his GCSE's.

 

Wallowing in self pity was not the way forwards though. I mean, look at what happened with his French- he had completely failed his mocks, and was so shocked with his mark he has preserved and worked with that. He had tabulated verb endings, revised complex structures and learnt his vocab so thoroughly he could literally be a dictionary. And look at how he was doing in that! Currently joint top of the class with Armin, (kinda) teacher's pet and actually enjoying learning it. All he had to do was the same with English. The only problem was that he needed to learn how he should be analysing. He didn't think there'd be any CGP guides for that.

 

After Mr Pixis had left, Marco looked down at his blank page and began thinking. Now that he had identified English was the problem, what did he need to work on? He hastily began scribbling down all of the things he needed to start revising, and was so absorbed that the bell soon rang, bringing him out of his daze.

He was about to leave to freedom until his name was called across the classroom. Turning in horror, he saw Mr Pixis beckoning towards him. With sympathetic pats from the majority of his classmates, they were soon left in the room together.

 

**"Now Marco, why don't you take a seat. This will only take a few minutes, and I'll give you a note for you to give to your next teacher explaining why you were late."**

 

Slowly wandering over, Marco tried to swallow his dread that was rising in his chest.

 

**"Now, there's no need to look so worried. I was just looking through the class grades. What do you think of yours?"**

 

Ahh, so this was what it was about. He had previously discussed with Mr Pixis about his dropping grades, and how he was growing more and more worried. All that his teacher had recommended was to practise exam papers, but how could be do that if he didn't even know how to complete the papers? This was the moment- he was probably going to be pulled out of class, and clearly his life would be over- he wouldnt' be able to get into a respectable Sixth Form, and then no university would want him, and then he'd had to get some shitty job and he would die alone forever, and- 

 

**"You told me earlier in the year about how you were worried about your marks? Well, I think I've found the perfect solution for you."**

 

Mr Pixis was notorious for looping students into various projects he had. One year, he managed to include Connie and Sasha in the school play, which he had been commissioned to write. Those two had been forced to proof read all 500 pages of the script at least three times each to tell him if any mistakes were made. Naturally, Connie and Sasha decided to 'edit' the entire script and as a result, the school play that year had a variety of colourful language and interesting scenes. The duo were given detention, but didn't treat it as such as many students congratulated them on their work. Marco dreaded to think what Mr Pixis would give him.

 

**"Now, I'm aware that your French skills are stellar, correct?"**

 

Blinking suddenly, Marco was confused.

 

_"Umm... yes? But I thought this was English sir?"_

Chuckling, Pixis explained himself.

**"Yes, yes, yes. I've had a chat with Professor Rivaille, and he seems to think one of his students is also failing. This student does, however, happen to be very good at English. And so, we were wondering if the two of you would like to tutor each other in your various subjects. You can teach him French, he'll teach you English."**

_"Wait... what? Can I ask who the person is?"_ His thoughts were in turmoil. On one hand, he really needed help with his English, but on the other he wasn't sure who this other character could be. Quickly deciding the pros and cons in his mind, he was set.

_"I'll do it."_

 

He reconsidered his acquiescence in the corridors. He had never been very good at socialising on a personal level with other people. Oh sure, he could hold a conversation, but not that many people knew that he was intensely shy. It took people he had known since pre-school to get him to open up. Suddenly, he was beginning to regret his decision. What if he didn't know this person? They could be a complete jerk- and he hadn't even asked who the other person was! Cursing his own stupidity, he crashed straight into another person in the corridor. Reeling back in surprise, half-formed apologies already left his mouth before he even looked at who it was. That is, until he took in the sight before him.

 

Jean, having taken art, was carrying his final piece. All of the art people were complaining about how difficult it was, as the project had to be completed over several weeks. The majority of them didn't particularly have enough time to complete them, and so took them home, along with coffee in order to stimulate them to work. Said coffee currently dripping down the unmarred side of the canvas. Swirling into the paint so carefully daubed on. Staining a brownish trail down, dripping over Jean's hands.

 

Marco could only stare in horrified silence, before his yes slowly travelled upwards to meet Jean's. His were wide open, with the shock of scalding coffee splashed over him but more importantly, his **art**.

"What...the fuck?"

At first, Jean spoke quietly, but soon his voice rose to volumes.

"What the actual fuck? You complete and utter jerk do you not realise that was my art? I have to hand this shit in at the end of the week! And now it's ruined! I've spent so many weekends doing this, and then you come and prance along and SPILL MY COFFEE? Who the hell are you? The whole point of the blank part of the canvas was that it signified silence in his thoughts! And now you've gone and ruined my art piece! Get lost, loser!"

 

Marco could only give stuttered and broken apologies before he was roughly slammed into some lockers. With his head in his hands, he slowly sank to the ground.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah i don't really know what i was thinking of when i was writing this  
> stay tuned for the next update when (hopefully) jean doesn't kill marco  
> CGP guides are my life and the only reason i can write this because i just revise from them all the time (when i decide to actually revise)


	4. The Tuition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean finds out he's tutoring Marco

**"So Jean, what do you think of my proposal?"**

"Umm.. Mr Pixis are you sure I'm the right guy for this? I mean, I only got an A in my last controlled assessment, you could ask Mikasa- she sits on my table as well, and she's really smart. She doesn't even work in lessons and she's really sm-"

 

Jean cut himself off when he realised what he was saying. Luckily, Mr Pixis only laughed.

**"Ahh Jean, that sentence is exactly why I think you should be tutoring this guy. And besides, he could help you with your French."**

 

Wait, French? Suddenly, a shining beacon of hope appeared in the form of the boy he was supposed to tutor. He hoped to god that it was some smart kid that knew all the answers, and could help him attain the all-star grades that he desperately wanted. Professor Rivaille burst into the room, with.. Marco?! Why was that douchebag tagging on his heels?

 

"Oh hell no," Jean quietly whispered.

 

With a monotone voice, Professor Rivaille introduced Marco.

**"Jean, this is Marco. Maybe he'll be able to drag your grades up. I doubt that he'll be able to, but apparently he thinks he can."**

 

Without making eye contact, Marco's grin slowly slipped off his face (currently flushing in a gradient on red) and he slowly slipped into the chair next to Jean, his shoulders stiff as if afraid to touch him. Jean snorted and looked defiantly at Mr Pixis.

 

"This the guy you want me to tutor, huh?"

 

With that, Marco jumped. Huh. Guess he hadn't been told who it was either. Well, it sucked to be him because there was no way in hell he'd be tutoring that slimy scumbag of a-

 

 **"Jean."** Professor Rivaille's smooth tones hid a warning, that he should take this opportunity _. "_ **Wipe that look off your face. You're either tutoring him or taking French at foundation level. You're too sloppy to be in my class."**

 

What? So this was an ultimatum now? How the hell was that fair?

 

"But Professor, this was the guy that-"

**"Save it. This guy is tutoring you whether you like it or not."**

Hunched over in his seat, Jean could only agree, or risk getting on the professor's bad side, and he really didn't want that.

 

"Fine. I'll do it."

 

Even Jean himself was surprised at how cool and sharp his voice was. Although his art was now fine, he kinda wanted to guilt-trip this guy a little. After all, his art had taken three weeks to do, and several cans of red bull. Admittedly he had fixed it now, but at the time he had freaked out. He had even considered scrapping it and starting again, before it was finally fixed.

 

As they were leaving Mr Pixis' office, Marco grabbed hold of Jean's arm.

_"umm.. I really just wanted to say that I was really sorry. And I know words can't really replace it so umm I kinda went-to-the-art-store-and-bought-a-new-canvas-and-paint-if-you're-starting-over-but-if-you-don't-want-to-I-googled-ways-to-remove-stains-from-this-stuff-and-yeah-I-could-help-with-anything-you-need-and..."_

 

Marco was speaking faster and faster, beginning to panic just looking at Jean's deadpan face. Admittedly, it was a little cruel seeing the guy under so much pressure, but he did kind of deserve it. Eventually, he couldn't hold it in any longer and burst out into peals of laughter.

 

Marco, stunned by the sudden change in demeanour, could already feel the heat beginning to rush to his face. Had he said something wrong? Was Jean laughing at the fact that he was an embarrassment? He covered his face with his hands.

 

Jean seeing this, hastened to explain.

 

"Oh no, it's cool man! Seriously, no problems."

 

Jean didn't want to mention that his art teacher had thought staining the canvas with what he thought was brownish paint was the perfect stroke of inspiration. After all, he didn't need to inflate Marco's head any more, his ego was probably larger than the Sun.

_"Are you sure? I really do feel really terrible about the whole thing. What do you say we go out for coffee some time? Naturally after the tutoring sessions of course?"_

 

Jean blinked. Was this guy being serious? Huh. Maybe he wasn't a massive douchebag like he first thought.

 

"Yeah sure. So, when do you want to this... this... tutoring and stuff?"

 

They had soon arranged a time and place, and soon Jean was left to ponder the events of that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these are getting shorter and shorter and the summaries are getting worse  
> mikasa is kinda based on my friend who doesn't do anything in lessons; i feel like her aim in english is just to distract me -.- and she still gets full marks on all her controlled assessments as well.


	5. The Tuition: Part Two

It was the first day of the proposed tuition, and Jean found himself feeling more than a little anxious- sure, Marco seemed like a nice guy, but what if Jean failed so miserably even Marco deemed him a lost cause? Fretting and panicking while walking to the library, he didn't noticed his name being called repeatedly until a soft hand grabbed at his arm.

 

_"Hey! Jean, can you hear me?"_

 

Jean found himself suddenly accosted by Marco's beaming face, and took the opportunity to gaze into the eager, chocolate swirled depths of his eyes.

 

_"Sorry to grab onto you like that, I didn't think you'd heard me. Now, where do you want to sit?"_

 

Marco's voice had dropped to a whisper with the last sentence as they had just entered the library. Shrugging, he grabbed the nearest chair to him and sat down at the table, looking up at Marco with expectant eyes.

 

And so their tuition started.

 

At first, Marco was more eager to put in effort, and so it was his grades that went up first. Mr Pixis was impressed at the quality of his work, and gave the boys hearty reassurances that this was for the best. And so soon, they feel into a steady routine. However, their teaching soon spread to other subjects. Jean would be unhappy with the A he had received in Physics (which he claimed stood for 'A disgrace to all human beings') and wanted to push it up to that A*, Marco was more than willing to teach Marco.

 

It was to be one of their typical sessions in the library, and the two had bonded significantly. It was clear that the two were inseparable now, and so when it turned out that the library had closed, Jean felt no qualms about offering to go to his house and study. Marco obliged. However, Jean soon began to regret the decision.

 

Mainly because Marco was ill, and it was hailing outside. The constant thud of the ice slamming against the window did not help his headache, and so after a few minutes Jean refused to do any more work.

 

_"But.. Jean? Why not?"_

"Because you're obviously ill, and you're going to get worse if you don't just relax."

_"I'm seriously fine, Jean there's nothing -ACHOO!"_

"See! I told you so. You need to wrap up warmer. Do you have anything with you? Why not?! You knew you had a cold and it's cold enough to freeze my balls off outside! Wait here."

 

Jean quickly left and picked up an oversized hoodie that dwarfed him. The only reason he had it was because he liked the design on the back- there were two sets of overlapping wings, one a navy blue, the other a pure white. To him, it symbolised freedom and he had desperately wanted the jumper, only to find it was out of his size. Not to be deterred, he picked up the next largest size and still wore it around the house. Luckily though, because Jean was skinny and Marco was built, it should fit him snugly. Jean carried it over his head like a prize, and dumped it on Marco's lap.

 

"Wear it."

Marco looked up with an expression of worry.

_"Are you really sure about this Jean?"_

"Yes, now put the damn thing on."

Marco complied, running his fingers along the soft fabric as he did so. As he lifted it over his head, he was accosted with a scent that was cologne, a warm woodsy hint and underneath it all, **undeniably** Jean. He decided against mentioning it though, as he didn't want to appear like a complete stalker, but he did snuggle into it further. Luckily for him, Jean didn't notice. Actually, where was Jean? Rolling himself off the couch slowly, he picked himself up off the floor and headed to the kitchen.

 

"Jean? Where are you?"

_"Hang on, I'll be right there I'm just cooking some soup for you."_

Marco felt the familiar rush of warmth to his face.

_"Oh no honestly, you don't need to cook for me!"_

"Just shut up and eat it already."

 

Careful not to spill it on him, Jean placed a steaming bowl of tomato soup right in front of Marco. Looking at him with expectant  eyes, he motioned to the bowl.

 

"Eat."

 

Marco was beginning to feel incredibly self-conscious as he took small sips, then began drinking away greedily.

 

_"God, Jean, this is so good! Where'd you get this from? I need more of this in my life!"_

"Umm... I made it?"

_"Holy shit are you serious, Jean? This is so good! You don't need to bother with school work, just get a restaurant already."_

"Heh, heh, it's not really that good..."

_"Are you kidding me right now, Jean, this is amazing!"_

"Ermm.. it's not really, I can't really cook..."

_"Jean, you're about as good as cooking as I am at sports. Like seriously. And thank you so much for the soup! You'd make a good housewife."_

 

Marco felt the words spilling out of this mouth before he realised what he was saying. Eyes wide in shock, he decided against saying anything else to see if Jean would notice. Unfortunately, Jean did. He shyly looked up between his lashes, trying to give a sultry look, but all he succeeded in was looking like a young child pouting.

 

"Are you offering?"

_"Wait, what? Oh my gosh, I didn't mean it like that, Jean stop looking at me like that!"_

"Yeah, yeah ok. And besides, we all know you'd be the housewife in this relationship."

Jean proceeded to strike a ridiculous pose, with his hand on his hip and nose in the air.

_"Ermm.. no. I can't cook and besides, I'm taller. That makes you the girl."_

"Rude! I think of myself as fun-sized. In fact... come over to my house tomorrow and I'll prove it."

 

Winking at Marco, he sauntered off, swaying his hips sassily before realising it made him appear even more feminine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh gosh the ending sounds so inappropriate but it's not it's just Jean being a twat


	6. Jean (surprisingly) is wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some all time low (surprisingly) and marco tries to cook

Unfortunately, Marco was still a little ill when he turned up to Jean's house the next day, and so he could barely be bothered to care about what he looked like. He casually threw on an old shirt that he secretly loved and walked the few hundred metres to Jean's house. They had discovered that they lived on the same road, but at opposite ends. Although it was tiring to Marco's weakened body, he still appreciated the fresh air.

 

When he finally arrived at Jean's house, he raised his arm up to knock. He waited. He knocked against. A thin voice yelled at him to shut up, as he heard someone slowly walking down the stairs. Just as he was about to knock on the door again just to be irritating, very tired looking Jean opened the door before he could. Admittedly, it was difficult to tell that he was tired (Marco guessed from the slumping posture and the scowl on his face) because he was wearing his ridiculous square-framed hipster glasses. Typically he wore contacts, but today he was exhausted and so simply couldn't be bothered. Marco snatched them off his face and tried them on.

 

Suddenly, the world blurred out of focus, and he couldn't even tell if that was a frown or a smirk on Jean's face anymore because it was just a blur. Waving his hands in front of his face, Marco started swaying from the sudden change in sight. Jean, soon becoming tired of being virtually blind, held his hand out before he realised Marco couldn’t see it.

 

"Give those back." Jean said in a low voice, almost threatening.

 _"In a moment. Did you know you have shitty eyes?"_ Marco's voice was overpoweringly chirpy, by far too excited for the morning.

"Fuck off. Now give them back so I can get changed."

As Marco handed them over, Jean slipped them on quickly and had to do a double take to make sure his eyes were seeing correctly.

 

"Hold on a moment."

 

He yanked them off his face before shoving them back on again. No, his eyes had been right the first time.

 

"Marco... Are you by any chance wearing the All Time Low shirt that was sold only on their Don't Panic tour in 2013 that sold instantly at my venue?"

Marco looked down at his shirt before shrugging a hesitant yes.

"Holy shit Marco, you didn't tell me you liked All Time Low! Oh my gosh, who's your favourite member? I can't decide 'cause I mean, Alex and Zack have dimples and they're so adorable and yes homo loud and proud, but Jack has the hair which is kinda cool and Rian's so cute with Cassadee and- Are you even listening to me?"

 

Marco could only nod briefly before Jean started again. He knew he was kinda fangirling at this point, but he was so overwhelmed by Marco's (clearly) good taste in music that he couldn't care less.

 

"Great. Which is your favourite song? You'd better not say For Baltimore. Or Canals. Or Time Bomb. Those are my favourites, bitch. I'm not sharing. Ok wait that was an awful question, what's your favourite album? Personally, I love Dirty Work- it's so good! Have you listened to the songs on that album, like wow Alex can write..."

 

*Ten minutes later*

 

_"...Umm Jean? Could I please come in now? My temperature's going to be **at** an all time low if I don't go inside because it's freezing out here." _

Blushing slightly, Jean stepped aside to let Marco in before continuing to ramble on, although slightly less on a tangent now.

 

"Oh wow, you'll be glad that I went out yesterday to do some shopping then- after all, I wouldn't want to ruin your totally awesome shirt. You know how I said you'd definitely be the housewife? Well I'm proving it now."

 

And with that, Jean whipped out a pink apron, with embossed hearts patterned all over. Before Marco could even step away, the apron was over his head and tied on his back.

 

"We're cooking something easy to start off, just a salad. It's not even cooking, it's just throwing vegetables in a bowl and sauce and then you're done."

And with that, Jean led Marco to the kitchen. 

 

"I trust you can wash the vegetables while I cut them? Unless you want to do the difficult part..."

_"No, no, no it's fine I'll wash the vegetables. But with my luck, I'll probably end up ripping the whole sink out before actually washing one."_

 

Luckily, this didn't happen and all was going well until they needed to toss the salad. Jean had added olive oil as a condiment, and was showing Marco how to toss correctly.

 

"...and so after you've done that, flick your wrists backwards and move the bowl backwards to catch the salad. Got it? Don't do anything stupid like drop the bowl, I'm just going to find cutlery now."

 

While Jean was hunting, Marco was struck with sudden inspiration. He had seen on television those chefs that set those puddings on fire, and he wanted to see if you could do it with salad. Giggling at the thought of setting the salad on fire, Marco carefully used his lighter to add a flame, holding a wet dishcloth to smother the hopefully small flames if it didn't work.

 

Jean came back just in time to see Marco stare at the salad that was now a roaring fire. Rushing over, he saw that there was really no point extinguishing it, as there was barely any salad left to burn.

 

"You set the salad on fire.

_"Yeah."_

"how?!?!"

_"...yeah."_

"oh my god."

_"yeah."_


	7. ...What did you do?!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They get their hands on a box of hair dye and decide to go to a concert.

While Jean and Marco were now receiving marks high enough for the pair to justify stopping tuition, they still continued to hang out. It was unbelievable how much they had in common- they listened to the same bands, loved the same foods and obsessed over the same games. It was at this point in their relationship that they decided to take it to the next level.

 

"Marco..." whispered Jean.

 _"What do you want now?"_ sighed Marco.

" You know how you promised we would do that thing..." whined Jean.

 _"Yeah? You wanna do it sometime soon?"_ questioned Marco.

"Pleeeeeaaase..." Jean begged, drawing out his syllables.

 

They decided to go to an All Time Low concert.

 

But before they left, Marco decided that he wanted to stand out a little. He had seen countless videos where All Time Low complimented members of the audience- heck, one time they paused their entire set to let two girls go to the bathroom, and he wanted to be noticed by them. He decided that he wanted matching hair with Jean, but decided he would go lighter at the top and darker at the bottom. He decided to ask Jean for his opinion.

 

"Yeah sure mate! I think that's great! How are you going to get it done?" Jean was enthusiastic about this idea, as he thought it would be cool for someone else to have a similar hair style to his.

_"Ummm... I was wondering if you'd help me do it?"_

At this, Jean paused. He had no idea how to dye someone else's hair- he had always asked his sister to help, but she was currently at university. But it wasn't too difficult, was it? All you had to do was put the dye onto the hair and wait it out, wasn't that it? It couldn't be too difficult.

"Sure. By the way, I've never dyed someone else's hair. Sorry if it goes to shit."

_"Nah, I'm sure you wouldn't do anything too drastic... right?"_

 

If only they knew how wrong they would be.

 

The first issue came with choosing the correct hair colour. Jean couldn't remember which brand his sister had used, and so when arriving at the supermarket they were stunned to find an entire aisle dedicated to various shades of colour.

 

"Holy shit, what's the difference? I thought the only colours were black, brown and blonde?!"

_"Don't forget red. That's a hair colour too."_

"Hey Marco, what's the difference between 'rich dark chocolate' and 'iced chocolate brunette'?"

_"You're seriously asking me?"_

"Fair enough. Ok, let's just grab these boxes and go."

It still took them a good half an hour before they managed to decide which boxes to buy. It took the words of a helpful bystander to inform them that there were **different types** of hair dye- semi-permanent, permanent, something starting with 'a' that you didn't want... Marco was almost regretting choosing to dye his hair. After hearing what they wanted to do to his hair, the stranger (who was actually a hairdresser) chose the boxes for them. She pre-warned them that as Marco's hair was black, he would need to bleach his hair only very slightly to give the truest form of the colour. She wrote down in which order they should be dying the hair, and when Marco looked at it all the words seemed to blend into one.

 

Returning home, they set to work. Jean refused to let Marco ruin his 'oh-my-god-amazing-shirt' and so had to borrow one of Jean's. As he was (fairly self-consciously) taking his shirt off, he thought he heard Jean take a sharp intake of breath, but he didn't think Jean felt that way about him.

 

\-----

 

Jean heard the little gasp leave his mouth before he fully processed that he made the sound. Turning away, he kept his poker face on, internally desperately trying the keep his face cool instead of flushing. He couldn't shake the image of Marco's tanned, slim yet muscular body from his mind. While he knew he 'drove on the other side,' , he wasn't entirely sure that Marco 'batted for the other team' as well. He tried to stop his inner fangirl from asking if he could stroke the gorgeous layers of muscle, but really didn't want to freak Marco out. He settled for saving and locking that image in his head instead.

 

"Right Marco, so are you ready?" he asked, snapping on some gloves.

Marco visibly gulped and shrugged.

 

They set to work.

 

The second problem arose when Jean realised he had opened all of the boxes at the same time. Pausing, he suddenly realised he didn't know which bowl of gloop was which colour. His eyes began to bug out of his head as he realised he was now lost. He couldn't decide whether or not to ask Marco- he didn't want to seem like he didn't know what he was doing and yet he also didn't want to mess up Marco's hair. He was pretty confident that the one on the right was the brown, right? Which made the left one the bleach? Fumbling with the instructions, he asked Marco to hold them for him. As Marco took the piece of paper, he promptly dropped it straight into the bowl, making them completely illegible.

 

_"Ah, shit!"_

"Oh god Marco, what do we do now? I can't even remember which bowl is which..."

_"Don't worry, I know. The left one is the bleach and the right one is the browny hopefully blondish soon colour."_

"Wait, why hopefully blondish? Isn't that the colour that we put on the bottom half of it? I thought the middle one was the blond one and the right one was brown?"

 

Locking gazes, they shrugged and dumped all three dyes mixed together onto his head. They were hoping that the brown would be much, much stronger than the peroxide blonde they had also picked up.

 

They carefully washed his hair, completely forgetting that the longest dye should have been in was an hour, and so Jean was not completely surprised when bleach-blonde hair emerged.

 

 _"...What did you do?!"_ Marco screeched

 

Ah, shit. He knew he should have left it, he should have forced Marco to go into a salon or something, of course he would mess it up-

_"I kinda like my hair! It's gold-ish but still bronze? I don't care, wow huh!"_

 

Wait... what? Jean stared at Marco in amazement. It actually looked pretty good on him- the blondeness of the hair made his face appear slightly paler, which made his face glow slightly, and you could probably cut someone with his cheekbones now, they looked so **defined** and-

 

"Does it look bad or something? Stop staring!" Nervous chocolate eyes met golden ones. Shaking himself out of his daydream, Jean smiled.

 

"No, your hair actually looks great. I didn't think anyone could look that good with pale hair."

 

Just as Marco was processing what he said, Jean realised his mistake and rushed out of the bathroom before anything else could be said. He wasn't particularly sure about Marco, but either way he didn't want to lose him as a friend. Surely it was better to keep quiet and still stay close to him?

 

And so Jean finally rocked up to an All Time Low concert with someone who vaguely resembled an albino. The few hours that they waited outside passed in a blur; they were simply too excited.

 

_"Shit Jean, I'm going to faint or something I literally can't wait!"_

 

An idea formed in Jean's mind.

 

"Calm down, I'm not taking you to **Therapy**."

 

Marco's mouth formed a perfect little 'o' as he realised what Jean was doing.

 

_" **Do You Want Me** to go or something, am I annoying you?"_

 

" **Return The Favour** and get out of here."

 

_"Rude! That was **Too Much**."_

 

"The only thing that's too much is you, you're **Poison** ing me." 

 

"You're **Shameless** , how could you say that to me you meanie?"

 

"I don't really care, all I want is **Me Without You**."

 

The puns continued all the way until they actually standing inside the venue. It was only when Alex's soft voice echoed out over the audience that they finally shut up. Music pumping overhead, lights flashing, bass beating to the same pace of his heart and yet all Jean could focus on was Marco. How he sang along to every song, how his eyes lit up or the small grin appear on his face. He could feel him swaying in time to the music, the sensation of utter exhilaration filling him. And it was here that he realised.

 

He had a crush on Marco.

 

This revelation brought him to a complete standstill. Jean stopped, forgetting the concert entirely. He supposed that it definitely made more sense now, normally anybody who tried to cook cupcakes without a tin typically would have earnt a smack from him, but with Marco, he had laughed it off. If someone split his coffee over his art, Jean would have gone on a complete rampage and destroyed them, but with Marco he had worked around the problem. Luckily (or unluckily, depending on how he looked at it) the concert was soon over, and Jean was able to contemplate his feelings alone, or so he thought.

 

A huge wave of people swept him to the merch table, and it was there Jean saw it. The exclusive shirt he had so lusted after, that he desperately wanted. Spurring his feet into action, Jean showed his way to the front. He made gestures at Marco explaining where he was going, keeping an eye on that coveted shirt. The penultimate one was taken, and Jean had to keep himself from desperately screaming at the man to hurry up. He had just held the attention of one woman, when he saw it. His precious shirt had been taken. Almost begging the woman if there were any others, she only replied with a "Sorry, we're out of stock."

 

He almost cried in frustration, and there was nothing he could do about it. He had wanted that shirt to match with Marco, and this would be the last time it would be sold- it was a tour exclusive, and it ended today. Forcing his way out the crowd, he dejectedly sat on the steps and waited for Marco.

 

"Say that I'm the best friend ever."

 

Marco suddenly appeared in front of Jean, grin wide on his face.

 

"Sorry Marco, not really in the mood."

"Just say it."

"Fine, you're a fan-fucking-tastic friend. Now go be a friend and go away."

"Are you sure you want me to leave after...this?"

 

And with that, Marco brandished a shirt. His hopes fell again when he saw it was the wrong one. Attempting to inject some enthusiasm into his voice (after all, he had been nice enough to buy a shirt for him) Jean said,

 

"oh wow, thanks Marco!"

 

Noticing the clear lack of enthusiasm in his voice, Marco looked at the shirt and laughed.

 

"oops sorry, wrong one. This is yours."

 

And in his hands, he held a shirt identical to his.

 

"What! Marco wow, how did you get that? You're actually amazing, thanks for putting up with me, you're an great human being and- "

_"Jean, you're rambling."_

"Sorry, I'll stop. I'll do whatever you want. If you ask me to jump, I'll ask how high. How much was it? I'll pay you back and everything."

_"It's fine, it's what friends are for. You don't need to."_

"ok fine, freckled jesus."

"wait, what?"

"I'm calling you freckled jesus now because you're freckled and you performed a miracle by getting that shirt. That makes you freckled jesus."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg omg in case you haven't realised All Time Low are my favourite band ever!!!! 
> 
> This is the video where they pause their concert for these two girls: 
> 
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9VjSwKzBNz400
> 
> wow Marco sounds super homo in this one but oh well 
> 
> also i didn't know how to end it so i just waffled a bit


	8. Drinking Games

As it was coming up to their mocks, many people were using this last month to relax, have fun and just generally mess around. Jean refused countless (awkward) invitations from people, saying that he would prefer to revise already. However, there was just one problem.

 

He couldn't say no to Marco.

 

Ever since realising his little crush, he found himself constantly staring at him, barely listening to a word that he said and agreeing with whatever he said. This soon led him into trouble.

 

_"I'm so glad that you decided to come over, don't worry Jean I asked, there won't be too many people there, just the normal crew."_

"Wait, what? What am I doing? Sorry, I wasn't listening."

_"Jean, you haven't been listening to anything! Are you ill? I was asking if you wanted to come over to Mikasa's house for one last party. Please say yes..."_

 

Wide, brown puppy eyes silently begged Jean, and his resolve crumbled.

 

"Fine, I'm coming to this one. But only because of you. And I can't even come to the start because I have to help my mum out."

 

Marco cheered, and Jean already began to regret his decision.

 

\-----

 

It was later on the week and they were at her house with 'the normal crew' that turned out to be Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Connie, Sasha, Krista, Ymir, Reiner and Bertholdt. They had all decided to bring their own poisons, and just before the party started, they had amassed copious amount of alcohol in the kitchen.  

 

"Right, this amount of alcohol calls for two things. Never have I ever, followed by hide and seek." Connie loudly announced.

 

They sat in a wide circle, Marco opposite him to Eren, who currently looked fairly suspicious as he was whispering things in almost everyone's ears.

 

"Right, let's get started. I'll go first." Connie grinned at the rest of the party.

"Never have I ever... dyed my hair." He grinned triumphantly at that.

Marco was the only person to drink.

 

Next up was Armin.

"Never have I ever handed in a piece of homework late. What? I genuinely never have..."

 

As the game progressed, Marco noticed something strange about the game. It almost seemed as if they were deliberately trying to get him drunk.

"Never have I ever gone to an All Time Low Concert"

"Never have I ever managed to bake some crappy cupcakes."

(He was forced to drink by everyone at that one even though he had thought they were pretty decent)

"Never have I ever... had freckles." If Marco had been sober, at this point he would have made a quiet comment about how unfair the game was being, or get up and leave. But a drunk Marco was a quixotic Marco, and his (fairly drunk) wide smile beamed at everyone. While he had had about 4 or 5 drinks, everybody else had only finished 2. The suggestions got more and more ridiculous, and eventually he was were drunk enough for the next phase of the plan: hide and seek. Luckily for him, Jean arrived just in time to play, but was forced to play entirely sober.

 

"Alright listen up. For hide and seek, we're going to get into pairs and hide. First pair has to take a shot." By this time, Marco was almost completely wasted, and kept clutching at Jean's arm and making little mewling noises. They took pity on them and decided that Mikasa and Armin could 'seek' first. As Marco was now considerably drunk, Jean dragged him along a corridor until they managed to find a fairly empty cabinet. Throwing out all of the contents onto the floor, Jean shut himself and Marco into darkness. Suddenly, the blackness because suffocating, oppressive. Although one person was drunk, it didn't help the tension between them.

 

"Sooo...." Marco whispered.

"Shut up Marco! We're going to lose!" Jean put his fingers over his lips.

By this point, it was fairly clear that Marco was completely out of his mind, as he lurched over, took Jean's finger from his mouth and put it over his own. Nodding happily, he started to hum fairly loudly.  At this point, Jean felt that the whole of the house probably knew where they were, not just Mikasa and Armin.

 

Jean sighed, and began talking softly.

 

"Marco, you're going to need to be quiet for this. I need to talk to you."

Marco hiccupped and looked up at Jean with wide, expectant eyes.

"Right, so I think now is the best time to tell you, when you're drunk and won't remember this in the morning. Kinda like a test run beforehand to see how you'll react."

Ignoring Marco's screeches of 'but I'm not drunk!', Jean continued.

"I don't know if you really remember the first time that we met, but you were helping me out in P.E. You probably thought I was clumsy, or an arrogant twat, but-"

"Never ever, Jean!"

"-Great. Now keep quiet. But since then, I've... noticed things. About you. Like how whenever you work, you always frown, and you pout as well. Or whenever you try to cook something, you always seem to get this really proud look on your face even when I tell you it looks shit. The point is Marco... I'm not sure how I feel about you anymore. And I'm confused."

 

"Since when aren't you?" a snide voice from outside the cupboard asked.

 

Jean nearly jumped out of his skin in horror. He forced the door open and jumped out, only to find everyone standing outside the door, clearly listening in to his little declaration. Marco, having passed out something during this speech, slipped to the other wall of the cabinet, banging his head. Before Jean could even consider telling everyone else off, Marco woke up.

 

"Jean! Did we-win?" His voice, quieter than normal, had begun slurring words together."

 

"Yeah buddy. We won." The affection in his voice was clear even to Jean, and he cursed himself for making it so obvious when he heard Ymir snicker.

 

"So... How much did you hear?" His voice went up to a pitch he didn't think even young choir boys could get up to

 

"We heard enough. And we pretty much already knew. It's kinda obvious." Sasha shrugged and continued eating- was that a potato?!

 

Jean's face began burning in embarrassment. Although he didn't mind admitting to his friends that he was gay, he wasn't sure he felt comfortable with everyone knowing about his crush with Marco. They would probably try to set him up, or some weird shit like that.

 

"Guys I swear to God if you interfere with this I will end you all. I will personally drag you to the lowest depths of hell and make sure you stay there." Jean threatened them all. It didn't particularly work, not when he was carrying a (slightly) drooling Marco in his arms.

 

"Yeah, yeah sure whatever. Now take Marco to bed. Don't  get too excited!"

"Stay safe! Use a condom!"

"Don't forget if he's not really conscious it's considered rape."

 

Various abuse was hurled at Jean as he carefully carried Marco to bed. Placing him down carefully, he didn't particularly know what to do next. Should he sleep next to Marco? If he did and they woke up the next morning, how would he react?

 

"Get yourself together Jean. He's just your friend." He whispered to himself. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he buried his head in his hands, and was about to get up and leave, when a strong hand yanked him downwards.

 

"Night-night Jean, don't let the bed bugs bite!" Marco sung softly, planting a sloppy kiss on Jean's cheek before completely passing out, under the influence of alcohol.

 

Later that night, Jean's cheek still burned where Marco had kissed it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoops sorry for the late update
> 
> omg there's like nearly 1k hits oh my word this is scary 
> 
> i'm so inarticulate and there's loads of you oh my holy potatoes
> 
> NO THERE'S 999 AND I HAVE TO LEAVE BUT I WANNA SEE IT HIT 1000 WHY


	9. The Next Morning

The next morning, Jean awoke in an uncomfortable position. All that he remembered was that sometime around 4, Sasha had decided to raid the kitchen and eat food. Everybody else soon joined her for sandwiches, and a little more alcohol. Jean, being the lightweight that he was, drank a few beers and after that his memory was blank. His arm soon began stinging as blood re-circulated around it, and what-on-earth-was-moving-below-him-oh-god

 

 _"Jean?"_ A scratchy voice underneath him hesitantly spoke.

_"Why are we in a bathtub?"_

 

Shit. This must have been what happened after he got drunk. And now he was... spooning Marco? Well at least he was the big spoon.

 

"Umm I think the better question is why are you asking why we're in a tub. Just enjoy it dude."

 

Marco wriggled over so that he was facing Jean.

 

_"Are you sure you're not still drunk? I can go and get you an aspirin if you want one."_

 

"Nah it's fine, I'm just going to nap for a bit longer."

 

 **"No you're not! You're helping me clean up**!" Eren's voice screeched through the door.

 **"I hope I'm not...interrupting anything?"** From behind the door, giggles could be heard as that statement was said.

 

Jean groaned, and slowly tried to get out of the tub, only to realise he wasn't immune to the hangover, slipped and fell on top of Marco. His breath hitched, and it was at this point that everyone decided to come in.

 

 **"Umm wow guys I really hope you didn't bang in my bathtub."** Mikasa commented in a monotone voice.

 

 **"Holy shit if you guys fucked in there I will personally murder you. That is disgusting, some of us need to use that after you."** Eren threatened the pair.

 

 _"No, no, no banging. It's an all clear zone here, nothing happened, no intercourse, no action, don't worry."_ Marco blushed and began to ramble on, his speech getting faster and faster.

 

 **"Marco, the more you go on about that, the more I think you guys did it. So I would advise you to stop."** Armin commented.

 

**"Okay, so you guys need to clean my apartment now. I called my boyfriend over and he's going to help as well, so get out of my bath."**

 

Jean, while crawling out of the tub, heard everyone talking. He wondered vaguely who Eren was dating, as he was supposed to be few years older than everyone else. He could feel the horror draining in his pit as a cool, harsh voice rang out across the room.

 

**"Get cleaning brats. Move it, and hurry up about it."**

 

"Shit Marco, please tell me that isn't who I think that is."

 

Grey eyes peered around the doorframe, and Professor Rivaille's mouth sank into a frown.

**"Please tell me you're not friends with my Eren."**

 

_"Actually, he was the one that invited us around."_

 

Jean elbowed Marco in the ribs.

 

"You dipshit, don't talk to him! Be quiet and maybe he'll go away. Just stay still and he won't see us." 

 

Before Professor Rivaille could respond, Eren pulled him away from the door.

 

**"Hey Levi, have you met my friends yet? Come on, and I'll introduce you to them all, sweetie pie."**

 

The pair looked at each other and paused for a second, before suddenly bursting into laughter. They could see the very tips of his ears flushing ever so slightly, while the rest of his face remained impassive.

 

"Sweetie pie?! Never let him live this down! Oh god Marco, remind him of this every single lesson please!"

 

\-----

 

It turned out that Professor Rivaille had stricter cleaning standards than anyone else.

 

Jean had worked harder cleaning the stupid floor than he ever did in his French lessons. And the worst part was that he knew exactly how to threaten each student.

 

**"Braus, if that rubbish isn't gone by the time I return, I'll make you eat it."**

**"Arlert, clean up the kitchen or I'll tell the librarian to bar you for a month."**

**"Kirstein, if you don't wipe that floor clean enough, I'll give you so much French homework you will be shitting French."**

 

It was about the point that everyone had (finally) managed to get their designated area clean. For once, Eren's apartment sparkled- normally Levi would bug Eren about it, and force him to clean but now he didn't have to bother.

 

Jean decided that he didn't want to be trapped in this shithole any longer, so he set off to find the Professor. Hearing him hum from a closed room, he flung the door open, not bothering to knock.

 

"OH GOD, MY EYES! I CAN FEEL THEM BURNING OUT OF MY SOUL OH GOD WHY!"

 

Jean stumbled from the room, wailing about his eyes. When asked what the matter was, he only pointed towards the direction of the room.

 

"Oh god, it came from over there. DON'T LOOK! If you want to have a free, blissful life, don't look for the love of God."

 

Of course, at this Ymir was interested and galloped over there. Instead of screeching like Jean, she only commented. **"Wow, well done Professor you got some."**

After the laughter ceased, there was a deathly silence as everybody contemplated their next step. Jean, naturally, knew that he was going to get a term's worth of detentions and so sat down, head in his hands. Marco tried to comfort him, but it was around this point that Jean remembered what he had said to him the night before.

 

 _"Hey, you all right?"_ Marco asked in a soft, soothing tone. He laid a hand on his back.

Jean began to flinch away, before he composed himself and looked down. He didn't want to see the disappointment on his face.

"Yeah, I'm fine, don't worry about it."

_"Are you sure? You sound...off."_

Had he already noticed? Damn, Jean cursed.

"Just worrying about our exams and that shit."

_"Hey relax, they're only mocks. And look at the other side, if you mess up it's fine."_

Jean looked away. But what if I mess up our relationship?

"Yeah, yeah sure." He mumbled.

 

As soon as the last word left his mouth, Levi and Eren stepped out of their room (fully clothed now). Immediately everyone burst into applause, Connie even wolf-whistling. Eren's face turned bright red- even more vivid than his eyes. He hid his face in his eyes, overcome by embarrassment. As soon as Levi noticed this, he gently comforted his boyfriend and silenced the apartment with a look.

 

In a quiet voice, he only murmured this: **"I swear to God, if any of you tease Eren about this and he gets upset, I will end you. I don't care if you bully me about it, not Eren."**

 

Although that should have been a threat, Jean turned to Marco. Marco turned to Jean. They both grinned.

 

_"We can bully him?!"_

 

\----- ** _next French lesson_** \-----

 

"Sir? I think I've finished my creative writing."

**"Bullshit. Stand up and read it then. In front of the class."**

Jean grinned. He knew Levi would force him to do that.

 

"Over the weekend, I went to a friend's house."

He could see the cogs turning in Levi's brain.

"There were many people there, and after having some alcohol, we fell asleep. Some of us were doing other things."

Was that a faint tint of pink he could see on the top of Levi's cheekbones, or was that just the light?

"My friend also has a boyfriend."

This was where the biggest risk came- he didn't know how the Professor would react.

"They met up this weekend and had some fun."

By now, the rest of the class had cottoned on to what they had done, but they didn't know whom had done it.

**"That's enough Kirstein. Stop there."**

But Jean wasn't finished.

"I walked in on them ha-"

**"STOP RIGHT THERE."**

Jean had never seen so much emotion on Professor Rivaille's face. Admittedly it was anger, but it was so worth it.

**"Sit back down."**

 

As the Professor passed, Jean whispered, "It's ok to bully you, right?" He stumbled as he was walking around, and Jean chuckled.

He gave a thumbs-up to Marco, who grinned back at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY POTATO 1K LETS CELEBRATE BY NOT DRINKiNG CHILDREN
> 
> seriously dont drink too much kids its bad for your health 
> 
> this got strangely educational.


	10. Mocks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean stresses out about exams and wants coffee.
> 
> Marco's a gentlemen (like always) and helps Jean.

It was the week before their dreaded exams. Jean had re-learnt how to speak properly to Marco, as each time he tried he stumbled over his words and began blushing like crazy. While Marco clearly knew something was up (God, even Eren had seen it and he was as slow as a bag of rocks) he didn't want to intrude on Jean and ask too many questions.

 

Whenever anybody asked what was wrong with him, he tried to put it down to exam stress. After all, his exams were in a month, and although he had been revising, he still was worried. It was widely known not to approach him in this state, as he often tended to over react and dramatise the current affairs.

 

_Student walks up to him. At the moment, Jean is relaxed and only very slightly jumpy._

Student: " So, how's revising for your exams going?"

 

_Jean's left eye begins to twitch._

 

Jean: I'm going so badly. I'm going to fail all of my exams, I can feel it.

 

_At this point, he's so focused on re-reading his revision guides that he slams into a locker. A few of his notes fall out. Jean is frozen in horror, his left eye twitching more than ever._

Student: Here, let me help you pick those up.

 

Jean: Oh my lord, heavens above, this is a sign, a SIGN YOU HEAR ME?! I'm going to fail, because I bet on one of those sheets of paper is going to be the one question in the exam that I don't know, and then I'll not be able to answer it, and then I'll get a bad mark and bad exam results and then I'll do so badly that no university will want to accept me and then I won't be able to get a job because I had to go to some crappy university and then I'll just live the rest of my life in a miserable existence, and I'll probably end up having 60 cats or something and then when I die I'll get eaten by them, why does this happen to me?!

 

_The student finished picking up the sheets and instead of listening to the rant, places them in Jean's arms and walks off._

 

Jean: Hey, where'd you go? Oh gosh, this is a sign. Even the people I know are abandoning me because of the disgrace of the bad grades.

 

The cycle repeats.

 

From this point, many considered Jean very slightly insane, and the only person who could be trusted to approach this wild creature and calm it down was Marco. However for Jean, whenever he saw Marco he was the opposite of calm- he began to panic internally, fretting over each detail and hoping that he wouldn't make a fool of himself like last time.

_"Hey, Jean."_

 

"Haiiiiiiiiii Marco."

 

Shit, way too perky for him in this time of morning. Marco would suspect something.

_"Hey, are you alright? You sound too...happy."_

 

"Yeah, I'm fine. Can we go to Starbucks after school?"

_"Sure, sure. It's always good to relax, especially because we've got so many exams. I might be a bit late because I have English last. Anyway, bye!"_

 

Marco walked off, only turning around to wiggle his fingers goodbye.

 

Jean was sure by now that if anybody didn't know about his little crush, the love-lorn adoring face he was making right now would tell them.  Typically, he would be focused in his work, each detail pored over and carefully analysed. Today, he made some basic mistakes, that even teachers started noticing the strange mood he was in. Jean couldn't wait until the end of school- for Marco or for his coffee, he wasn't sure.

 

Finally, the bell rung, signalling that the torturous wait was over. Jean shoved and pushed his way outside, and hopped from one foot to the other impatiently. Finally catching sight of his tall, freckled friend, he dashed over and began tugging impatiently on his arm.

 

"Come on, Marco let's go! I want my coffee!"

 

_"Calm down, it's not like it's actual coffee anyway."_

 

Jean slowly turned around at this and fixed Marco with a glare.

 

"What do you mean, not actual coffee?"

 

Marco coolly levelled Jean's stare, with a twinkle in his eye.

 

_"Well, considering the amount of sugar and other crap that you put in there, I'm surprised you can even taste the coffee."_

 

They bickered like this all the way up to Starbucks, where Jean elbowed Marco out of the way and ordered first.

 

"Hi, I'd like a venti iced skinny flavoured latte- soy milk please- with whipped cream, 4 pumps of flavoured sugar free syrup and a caramel drizzle on top. Thanks."

 

Jean looked nonchalantly  at the poor (and possibly new, Jean hadn't seen him here before) person, hands shaking.

 

**"C-c-can I get you to repeat that sir? Sorry?"**

 

Jean did so, but made sure to go faster than before just to piss him off.

 

A voice, full of years, chuckled and said, **"I'll take this one. I haven't seen you in a while, Jean."**

 

"Pixis! Yeah, I've been too busy with work. Hey, you still know my order right? Cool."

 

Marco watched in astonishment as the order was recited, made and placed straight into Jean's hands in less than a minute.

 

_"Have you... been here before? Is that coffee is or that just whipped cream?"_

 

"Well duh. Don't bash my whipped cream, man. It tastes good."

 

_"Why not just buy one of those squirty things and eat that instead of going to Starbucks for it?"_

"Because this has caramel drizzle on it. Now shut up."

 

Marco was so put off by the amounts of things going into Jean's coffee that he decided not to order, and he left the shop empty handed.

 

The next few weeks passed in a blur. Each day, Jean and Marco would revise in Starbucks, with his ridiculous coffee order and Marco's (much simpler) mocha. Before each exam, they would go and order a coffee, to try and relax. One day, disaster struck.

 

Jean was desperately trying to make his way to Starbucks, but unfortunately all the tubes were on strike. Marco had already arrived, and so in a last ditch attempt to get his drink he called ahead.

 

"Marco!"

 

_"Oh god, what's happened now? Did somebody judge you again for revising on the tube? Did you leave your one and only pencil on the floor again, because I am not going to go with you to find it. Just borrow mine or something because you found it in your fucking bag after searching each room in the school. Do you know how many rooms there-."_

 

"No, it's worse than that."

 

_"Did someone spill coffee on you? Speaking of coffee, where are you?"_

 

"That's the thing- I'm late and I can't get there. Soo, do you want to be an amazing friend?"

 

_"Not particularly, no."_

 

"Great! Can you order my coffee for me?"

 

_"I was afraid you'd say that. I still don't know what it is!"_

 

"It's fine, I'll text it to you. Thanks! I'll pay you back as well!"

 

And Jean ended the call quickly before Marco could protest.

 

\-----

 

Standing in the coffee shop, Marco took a deep breath. He looked up. Pixis wasn't there, so Marco had to face the coffee boy.

 

_"Can I please get a venti iced latte- no wait, sorry. It's a venti skinny iced latte that's flavoured with cream and caramel and oh god, I forgot it again. I'm so sorry."_

 

Internally panicking, he finally saw his phone light up and to his relief, Jean had finally texted him his coffee.

 

 _"Can I get... that?"_ He asked, holding up his phone. _"Sorry about all that, it's for a friend and I always forget his order."_

 

The coffee boy, smirking, asked in a snide tone, **"Are you sure he's just a friend?"**

 

Marco looked again at the text, and to his horror, read this.

 

"Hey Marco, thank you soo much for ordering my coffee, I love you so much and I'll make it up to you later ;) can I get a venti iced skinny flavoured latte with soy milk and whipped cream, 4 pumps of flavoured sugar free syrup and a caramel drizzle on top? Thanks babe :* :*"

 

 _"Ahh no, he knows I don't remember it so he always does this to embarrass me..."_ Marco's voice trailed off as he saw the disbelieving look, the arched eyebrow and the are-you-really-serious face.

 

_"No, I swear- I like him but I don't really know if he likes me back, and nothing's happened between us I swear- well, there was that time we woke up in a bathtub but there was nothing. Nada. Oh god, why am I telling you all this?"_

 

And it was this day that Marco discovered he lost his mental filter whenever he got nervous. As a result of learning this, he decided not to talk to anyone during the exam period. Unfortunately, they were forced to go back to normal lessons after their last exam had finished which for them, was P.E.

 

Almost everyone had completely forgotten that Hanji, as a 'relaxing treat' for them all, had decided to build her own obstacle course. With the help of Moblit, this course spanned across the entire football pitch and even entered a little part of the woods at the end. They were to split up into pairs and the pair with the shortest time would win.

 

Naturally, Marco and Jean went together, to the dismay of many girls (who were now starting to get jealous of Jean.) He shrugged, and behind Marco's back stuck his finger up at them whenever they made faces at him. With Marco being the sports star of the school, they were forced to go last.

 

The first part of the course started off easily- it was just hurdles, which Jean actually managed to conquer. As it had started raining halfway through, the track had become muddy, but the pair were still determined to win. They only paused for a few seconds to wonder at how their teacher had managed to find a monkey bar swing set and place it onto their field, and to ensure that they didn't cheat, it was placed on top of some freezing water- if they slipped, they wouldn't be able to climb up to the other side and would have to go back to the very beginning.

 

Luckily, they managed to get across safely, and soldiered on. This was where they began to encounter a few problems- they needed to climb up some ropes and rigging (seriously, had Hanji raided Homebase or something? Wasn't this stuff expensive?) but due to all the rain and mud, they were incredibly wet. They decided to be smart and tie a few knots in the rope, to use as grips. They had nearly completed it when Jean fell.

 

Naturally, it was at the jogging that he slipped on some branch in the woods. He could hear everybody cheering them on, but he must had twisted it or something- it was painful to walk on, let alone run. He urged Marco to go onwards and win, but then ~~the stuff of dreams~~ something embarrassing happened.

 

Marco, as ever the gentleman, couldn't leave Jean behind. At first, he tried to get Jean to lean some of his weight onto him but when that didn't work, he shrugged and picked Jean up and slung him over his shoulder. Jean now had a perfect view of Marco's ass- it was just the right shape, and each time Marco moved his legs to jog forwards, it curved with him and-

 

Shit. He couldn't keep thinking this way, or he might get into an incredibly awkward situation. Not to mention that fact that Marco was carrying him, and could feel every aspect of his body, and vice versa. He desperately tried not to think of those abs (there must have been some there, Marco wasn't even out of breath carrying him) or how his muscles flexed and-

 

Jean was cut off from his thoughts by hearing everyone beginning to chant and cheer Marco on. At first, he was humiliated but soon felt his ankle throb in pain. Marco set him down carefully and called Hanji over.

_"I think he broke his ankle..."_

 

Suddenly instead of Jean being the 'weakling that had to be carried,' he transformed into the 'dedicated student that battled on.' Everyone rushed around him and crowded around him, wanting to study his ankle. It was only due to Hanji that the crowd dispersed.

**"All right everybody, get out of the way, move it. Let me see what's happened this time."**

 

She took a long look at the ankle before suddenly prodding it once, painfully.

 

"Shit! What the fuck was that for?"

 

The words left his mouth before he realised that he had sworn at a teacher.

 

She didn't seem to notice, and promptly poked it again.

 

"Ow! Stop!"

 

Hanji stood up suddenly, flinging Jean over onto his side and his foot flying in the air.

 

**"I think you broke your foot. Or sprained it. I don't actually know. I just wanted to see what would happen if I poked it. I'll bring the school nurse over."**

 

Looking down, she noticed how his body appeared to be collapsing in on itself.

 

**"Don't sit like that, it'll probably make it worse."**

 

She jogged away while Jean was screaming obscenities at her.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dflkhsfijresjksfkjwefbkwfe 
> 
> I wrote this a while back but forgot to update it hehe sorry 
> 
> ahh i've completely forgotten to do these two stupid essays because i've been brainstorming ideas and such 
> 
> helppp meeeeeeeee
> 
> hehe apparently the longer your Starbucks order is the more of a douchebag you are 
> 
> so naturally, jean has a longer-than-a-dick order because he likes to annoy the coffee people (duh)


	11. Christmas

After their dreaded mocks had finished, they were pretty much free to relax until after Christmas. Jean was stressing out about this, determined to find all of his friends the 'perfect Christmas present.' For Armin- that was obvious, that map of Game of Thrones, for Eren he decided to give the gift that kept on giving and a massive box of condoms (he still wasn't letting the 'incident' go) and for Mikasa, he knew that she was doing her martial arts thing so he got her some new staff to practise with after she broke her old one from being too aggressive- in fact, he had everyone's present except for Marco's. He was leaving it rather late, but he brainstormed and still couldn't think of an idea.

 

It was only after Marco made a passing remark that he decided what to do. He was literally going to be one of the best friends ever. So maybe he was hoping to be a little more, but Marco didn't need to know that right?

 

It was Christmas Eve, and Jean was disappointed that Marco had to spend it with his family. Of course, his friends went over to his house and celebrated one of their last holidays before the exams.

 

 **"Hey Jean, where's your boyfriend?"** Ymir's voice rang out through the house, followed by barely-disguised laughter.

 

He was thankful that he was in the kitchen so that he could hide the flush of colour that crawled up his neck, his hands shaking as he attempted to decorate Christmas cookies. He had to admit that while Marco couldn't cook for shit, he was much better at decorating the cakes. Reminiscing, he was lost in his thoughts and didn't notice neither Sasha nor Connie sneaking up behind him and stealing a few cookies form the tray. Looking down again, he flinched in terror when he only noticed 9 on the sheet when there had previously been 12 biscuits.

 

Sasha and Connie high-fived outside the kitchen after peering in and watching Jean look frantically on the floor and all the other surfaces to see where he could have placed these biscuits. Jean soon began to regret inviting everyone over, preparing himself for more assaults on his food and about his current status with Marco.

 

**"So, how's it going with Marco?"**

**"Done the frickle-frackle yet?"**

**"Are you guys staying safe?"**

**"Can you name your children after me?"**

 

Jean was bombarded with various questions the second he walked into the room.

 

"Look guys, I'll tell him when I want to. And besides, he might not even like me!"

 

Everyone in the room groaned and started yelling at Jean to just ask him out already.

In fact, he was so busy planning out how to, and getting everyone's help that he didn't notice Connie very subtly taking bets on when they would start going out.

 

**"So, how are you going to do it?"**

 

"Well, I'm thinking of waiting until after the exams, because I don't want to distract either of us..."

 

 **"But you guys are my OTP! I ship you two**!" Sasha yelled out across the room.

 

"What's that?" Jean asked what he thought was a reasonable question, but apparently not.

 

And so while Jean was still dealing with his school girl slightly tsundere crush on Marco bodt, he was now learning the ups and downs of tumblr.

 

 **"Great tumblr, Jean! Ok so this is your dashboard."** Instead of celebrating this joyous day, all of his friends were now crowding around his slightly too small computer and showing him around.

**"Now you need to follow people."**

 

"Wait, you still haven't explained what shipping is."

 

**"...It doesn't matter. Just follow me."**

 

"Fine, what's your name?"

 

**"Firstly, it's not a name, it's a URL. And it's kinda weird."**

 

"I really couldn't care at this point. Just tell me so I can set this up and then go open presents."

 

Jean really did not want to be wasting his time here and his friends bullying him, so he casually typed in his friends' URLs and followed him. His own 'link' as he called it was I-ship-Jean-Marco, kindly suggested by Eren (also he still didn't know what shipping was, he was slightly worried when his friends began smirking and laughing) and sighed, finally setting up the blog. Finally, it was time to open presents. Marco had appeared on Skype, and again everyone crammed around him to get a glimpse of him.

 

"Hey! How are you?" Jean asked, in a desperate attempt to sound casual.

_"Yeah, great. It's actually kinda boring over here, I've been banned from opening any Christmas presents."_

 

Everyone had previously made a deal that their presents could be opened on Christmas Eve, as they weren't together tomorrow. When it came to Eren's turn, Jean almost threw the box at him in excitement.

 

"I can't wait for this," he whispered to himself. He was actually filming, wanting to see the look of embarrassment and horror on Eren's face. When he finally managed to rip open the packaging, a stunned and silent Eren held up the box for everyone to see. All of a sudden, the room went silent as they noticed him holding up a jumbo box of condoms. The only noise was from the computer screen, where Marco groaned and whispered, _"Please say you didn't, Jean."_

 

What happened next was not meant to have happened. Eren looked at Levi. Levi looked back. Simultaneously, they both left the room running. All their friends tried to process what had just happened, and some of the smarter ones were making faces of disgust.

 

 **"JEAN YOU FUCKING PRICK, YOU UPSET EREN!"** Mikasa screamed, having just come in and seen Eren leave the room.

 

"I don't think he's upset. Anything but." Jean replied snarkily.

 

**"OF COURSE HE'S UPSET JEAN WHY ELSE WOULD HE HAVE RAN OUT SO QUICKLY WITH LEVI AFTER YOUR SHITTY PRESENT? WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU GET HIM?"**

 

It was Armin who quietly tugged at her sleeve, whispered into her ear and sat back down quickly, not wanting to embarrass his friends any longer.

 

For once, Mikasa was the one to flush as she realised what her brother and his boyfriend were doing. To try and diffuse the tension in the room, Armin hurriedly opened his present.

 

 **"Now, that was a...umm... Rather interesting present from Jean. I'll open my stuff now."** He then proceeded to freak out at looking at the map, with all of the character names embossed around the edges. Jean smirked, he was clearly superior at giving gifts. When it came to Marco, Jean was more than a little nervous. Hesitantly, Jean held up two tickets to a planetarium.

 

"Is this okay? I heard about how you liked stars and stuff, so I was wondering if you'd go with me? Maybe like a d-" Jean was interrupted from finishing his sentence by Marco bursting into a full essay about how he didn't 'like' stars, he loved them and gave a brief lecture about the universe or something. After he finished, he suddenly chuckled.

 

_"Sorry for that, I got a bit excited what were you saying before?"_

 

Jean sighed before continuing.

 

"Nothing. I didn't say anything." The unsaid word, date, rolled around in his head.

 

 _"Anyway, this is my present for you. It's not as good as yours I don't think..."_ Marco Bodt, the little shit, had gotten him a "Jalex is kinda like a unicorn. You know it's there, you just can't see it" shirt along with various other Alex and Jack quotes.

 

 "oh my god..."

_"I'm sorry if you don't like it. There's two designs I did, I have only one of them but you have the both. They're both different, is that ok?"_

 

"Are you serious? Those are amazing! Thank you so much, you're so cool! Did you design these yourself? Oh wow, Marco you're the best friend ever, I love you so so much!"

 

Everyone stopped and turned around at the computer screen to see how Marco would react. He merely laughed it off, and soon everyone resumed their normal activities.  Sasha and Connie successfully managed to steal the rest of the cookies. Eren and Levi eventually came back downstairs. They considered playing hide and seek again, but decided against it when sober ("did you know it's called cache-cache in French? Marco told me." Said Jean to no one in particular.)

 

In the end, the party began to slowly wind down, and people left to their respective homes (Levi unsure about whether or not to thank Jean before leaving). In the end, it was just Marco on skype and Jean standing by his computer. As the last of his friends left, Jean flopped down on  seat.

 

 _"Had a busy day?"_ Marco asked sympathetically.

 

"A busy day? You could say that. I've been rushing around before noon, trying to buy some alcohol to make eggnog with, and then almost all of the shops were closed, so I had to drive all the way out to London- London!- and come back here as soon as possible, then start baking some cookies for everyone, then they all came early and I had to make more biscuits, because it turns out Sasha and Connie were stealing them off the plate, and..."

 

Jean continued ranting on while Marco watched him. It was quite amusing to watch how passionate he would get, angry about one minor detail. He noticed the way he would over-gesticulate something when feeling particularly forceful, or how the little crease in his forehead would appear whenever he was concentrating.

 

"...and so then I said- are you even listening?"

 

_"Yeah oh course I am. Just wondering what eggnog is."_

 

Jean looked straight at Marco in faux annoyance.

 

"I have been talking for about 5 minutes straight and at the start of my speech I mentioned eggnog, and you didn't think to bring it up until now? And besides, who doesn't know what eggnog is? It's just like milk, sugar and egg. That's literally it. And as I was saying, it's-"

 

_"Yeah, but that sounds awful. Why would anybody want that?"_

 

And so their discussion about Christmas drinks, Christmas, holidays in general and how they celebrated birthdays went well into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ohh gosh sorry that it's so short 
> 
> pls dont throw rocks at me 
> 
> *hides behind CHAPTER 12*
> 
> that's right, I wrote chapter 12 as well because they're both short(er than me which is quite difficult considering i'm literally levi's height)


	12. The magical world of tumblr

After Christmas, they were coming up to their exams. It left little time for the pair to talk, as they were studying (or at least meant to be.) Currently, they were skyping and complaining about the amount of work they were still receiving from school.

 

"..and it's just so ridiculous! Why do teachers feel the constant need to be setting me at least 2 homeworks a day! Oh, finish this essay! Rewrite question 4! Translate this passage which I know is difficult but I don't care! Do your French oral even though you just had a throat infection and can barely talk!"

 

_"But it's clearly better, you're speaking to me now... And besides, at least you're doing work. I just sit around on tumblr all day. Don't get one, it'll ruin your life."_

 

At this, Jean remembered what he had done over Christmas and carefully logged in, trying to remember his name and password.

 

"Oh wait, I did get one. Hang on let me log in, I forgot my thing. So let me go to the webs- what is that?!"

 

Marco sighed. He must have gotten one of the more... suspicious posts on his homepage. Naturally this would have happened to Jean, only he would get something weird his first time logging in.

 

_"What's happened? What's the matter?"_

 

Jean could only stare in horror and disgust.

 

"It's some weird skull thing I- oh god, the longer I stare at it, the weirder it gets..."

_"Look it doesn't matter, just log in. Great. Have you managed that? Now go to the little box thing in the top right There's kinda a link underneath the top line.. click on it?_

_Ok, read out the web address please?"_

 

Jean complied.

 

"It's... I hyphen ship hyphen oh god, let me spell this out for you, j-a-r-c-o? I think that's it? What's the matter?"

 

Jean could only stare as Marco's face went purple. He began to stammer only to choke on his tongue (reminiscent of Oluo in science afterhe tried to chat up Petra only to be rejected, again).

 

"What? I don't understand?"

 

Marco realised that either Jean's poker face could rival Professor Rivaille's, or he was really just that dumb.

 

_"...do you want to change your thing any time soon? Maybe pick something less..."_

 

He threw his hands around wildly in the air, hoping desperately that Jean would get the message and he wouldn't have to explain it.

 

He wasn't lucky.

 

"Less what? Less WHAT?! Marco just man up and tell me."

 

_"...oh god, this is so embarrassing. Who came up with the name?"_

 

"It was suggested by everyone I think. What's a ship got to do with it? What's a jarco?"

 

Hearing Jean pronounce it was enough to make Marco shudder. All right, so he had asked his friends for advice on how to ask him out, because maybe he did have (just the smallest) crush on Jean. He had put up with their relentless teasing, and they had decided this was the best option? He silently vowed never to trust them with matters of this importance again.

 

"Yo. Come back to us. Oi, are you listening?"

 

_"...sorry, just spaced out."_

 

"Good for you. Now explain."

 

_"Ahmm ok, so do you know what shipping is? It's umm, kinda maybe just to do with fanfiction?"_

 

"oh, that doesn't sound too bad?"

 

_"It gets worse. So basically, you 'ship' your two favourite- or more, I dunno what you're into- and I don't want to know- people together? And you can have more than one ship? You can have... an OTP. My insides are dying, I can't believe I have to tell you this."_

 

"Well I'm sorry that I'm busy working, I don't have time to get social network stuff. I only just figured out Twitter. And what's an OTP? And you still haven't got to what's a 'jarco'."

 

_"Calm down. Please stop saying that. A small piece of my soul flakes off and dies each time I hear that word. An OTP is.. your one true pairing. It's like the thing you kinda ship most. Oh gosh, I can't believe I'm saying this next sentence. 'Jarco' is essentially a portmanteau. It's...our ship name if you will. It's Jean and Marco? Glued together?"_

 

"I'm confused. So when it says I ship jarco, it means...what?"

 

He had to be doing this deliberately. He wanted to embarrass Marco, that must have been it.

 

_"uhhhh... figure it out."_

 

"You shithead, you're no fun. Just tell me. Ok wait hang on, I'm hungry."

 

Jean scrambled off his chair (more like rolled off onto the floor, the lazy bastard, and stood up) and slouched over to the kitchen. Marco took this opportunity to wring his hands together, face flushed and heart racing. What should he tell Jean? At first, Marco thought he didn't know, but then again he had only recently just got a tumblr, so maybe he hadn't fallen down into the dark hole of the internet deep enough to discover shipping?

 

Alright, Marco decided. He would be honest about it, but pretend it was about celebrities or something- he would be a great friend (as always) and save Jean the embarrassment. No doubt Eren had decided to do this, in retaliation for how they were being extortionate in French lessons to Levi.

 

"Kay I'm back. Now spill."

 

Jean mumbled, slowly licking a Magnum and staring straight into the camera. Shit. That was not part of the plan. Suddenly Marco forgot his well thought out plan and words spilled out of his mouth in a jumbled mess as his eyes focused on Jean's tongue making slow motions across the body of the ice cream.

 

_"Uhhhhh w-what sorry?"_

 

"... What's the matter, cat got your tongue?"

 

No, Marco thought, the only tongue I want is yours.

 

_"Ok, so jarco is Jean and Marco shipped together."_

 

"Aren't those our names?"

 

The little shit. He definitely knew.

 

_"Ummm yeahh but there's other people with our names too! Like Jean the footballer and Marco Polo. So it might not be us. So yeah."_

 

Real smooth, Marco, real smooth.

 

"You know I'm a pretty decent footballer, right?"

 

_"W-what s-sorry I was... Distracted"_

 

"FIND out then."

 

_"I'm confused, sorry what?"_

 

His tongue was mesmerizing, reaching out to flick at the ice cream. His Adam's apple bobbed, and Marco decided that wasn't the only thing he wanted to see bob, and-

 

"Marco you're not looking too hot, you kinda look flushed?"

_"I've gotta go Jean, sorry I need to go now."_

 

Marco literally squeaked. He slammed his computer shut quickly before Jean could make any more comments.

 

Jean chuckled and tossed away the rest of his ice cream. He really hated vanilla, but it was the only thing left. Phase 'embarrass and turn on Marco' was a success, now he had to carry out the next steps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sURPRISE it's also short 
> 
> omg omg guess what guess what
> 
> this is the penultimate chapter!!!!
> 
> sorry that they're really short
> 
> i spend all my time crying over Tom Hiddleston now 
> 
> like seriously look at him 
> 
> no look: 
> 
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y1NS97_lHi8
> 
> pls look he's perfect and amazing 
> 
> i just rewatch this and cryyyyy


	13. Finally.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An argument, coffee, a make-up.

Unfortunately after that, they barely had time to see each other, even with Skype. They were so busy revising that they could only give passing greetings to each other in the corridors. Jean had studied so much, the bags under his eyes apparent. He had made plans in the Easter, but cancelled them, fearing that he would fail his exams by not revising that one part of the specification. 

 

His paranoia soon led others, particularly Marco, to worry about him. They normally now had 'study dates' (Marco really wished that he could cross out the 'study') but Jean had cancelled them as well. Admittedly, they never really did any work, taking two hours to bask in each other's presence and play video games over and over again, but still Marco missed them. 

 

Once, he had caught Jean staring at him. When asked what he was doing, he simply said "Studying. Apparently, I'm studying you." And continued working. He still didn't know quite what to make of the "Jean-Marc and Marco Polo" issue, as he'd labelled it in his mind. Mulling it over in his mind, he realized he was done for the day (honestly, he only really wanted a B and felt he had put in enough revision) and decided he would hop over to Jean's, bringing peace offerings of coffee and food. 

 

Unfortunately, he really couldn't be bothered to get a Starbucks (and face the embarrassment of harassing the barista and the glares of people behind him) so he just made some in a thermos and walked down the road. He knocked cautiously on the door and waited for Jean to answer it. 

 

When no answer came, he banged his fist onto the door and yelled slightly, concerned about Jean. Eventually, he called his house number and his mother had to answer the door (she was in the garden.) 

 

"Jean, wha- oh hi, Mrs Kirstein. Awfully sorry to bother you, is Jean at home?" 

 

"Yes he is dear. Are you Marco? He talked- talks about you all the time. If you can pull him away from his revision long enough. Just go up to his room, dear." 

 

Marco had never really seen either of his parents and Jean didn't talk about them. Apparently, they lived somewhere in Kensington and trusted him enough to work. Jean had once complained that they never seemed to care about him, but from what Marco could tell they seemed to care a lot. 

 

"Are you sure, Mrs Kirstein? Thank you, I hope I'm not overstepping your courtesies and such." 

 

"Of course not dear, any friend of Jean's is a friend of mine. And besides, you're such a polite boy." 

 

He stepped in carefully and made sure to take off his shoes (balancing the coffee) and headed up the familiar stairs, feeling uneasy. He pushed open the door and quietly called out, "Jean?" and was greeted by overflowing piles of sheets and books. Jean himself was seated in the midst of this, clearly overworking and stressed too much. Marco let out a soft whistle. 

 

_"Christ Jean, what happened?"_

 

Jean jumped, clearly startled by the unexpected intruder. 

 

"Marco, what are you doing here? Why aren't you revising and stuff? Don't you have things to do?" 

 

_"Yeah, but I've finished revising and besides, I think you need a break. Have you even left your room this weekend?"_

 

"I can't I don't have enough time. How have you finished revision? Aren't you worried you'll just get a B or something?"

 

Marco felt indignation rise in him at that last throw-away remark.

 

_"Hey, there's nothing wrong with a B. There's no need to be so mean, especially when I brought you coffee? And food? You need to calm down the revision."_

 

"Of course there's nothing wrong with a B, unless you're aiming to work in retail or something like that. And I don't want it, I'm busy." 

 

Marco had had enough. 

 

_"Hey, there's no need to be such a bastard. I just don't see the point in getting any higher than a B, especially when I've already got a sports scholarship to a different school, alright? Just because I don't have ridiculously unattainable standards doesn't mean you can be such a dick about it. And you need to stop revising, Jean! Calm down, I think you're getting paranoid. For fucks sake, the normal Jean would have snatched the coffee out of my hand! What's happened to you?!"_

 

"What the hell do you mean, unattainable standards? Are you saying  you don't think I'll get A stars? Because let me tell you, that I've actually been working since December revising over and over again. If you're saying I'm stupid, you're fucking wrong because I have memorised the syllabus inside and out, so don't presume to tell me what I'm going to be getting. Not all of us can rely on our fancy scholarships just because you can jog a couple of laps, we've actually got to work."

 

_"I had to work to get the scholarship as well! I have to train every day for an hour and take a shit-load of time out of my weekend to count how many laps to do! Don't be such a dickhead! And I swear to god, fucking stop revision! You're being such a twat!"_

 

"Just get out. I swear to god, I can't deal with this. I need to revise. Fucking get OUT OF MY HOUSE."

 

Marco froze, a retort dying on his lips. He quietly set down the coffee and turned to leave. He paused, but couldn't bring himself to say anything else. He simply set the coffee down on a nearby table and left, sadness coursing through him.

 

Jean sat alone, in a slightly dimmed room, wondering where on earth it had gone wrong.

 

If they barely spoke to each other before, they didn't speak at all now. The first time they had passed in the corridors, Marco had refused to even meet Jean's eyes, instead choosing to turn to Arming and loudly chatter, leaving Jean and his apology behind.

 

Weeks suddenly passed. Jean couldn't afford to worry about his friendships (or so he thought) and instead focussed on his work. It was when he randomly opened his French book that he found it.

 

It was just a little note, a small thing, written (of course) in French. Marco's familiar scrawl across the page was clear, and it simply said, 

 

" _Tu feras bien de tes examens, alors détendes-tu! :)_ "

 

Staring down at the note, he suddenly realised just how much he missed his friends. By now, it must have been at least one or two weeks that he had gone without speaking to them. Looking at his timetable, he realised that he only had a few more days before the exams fully started. He paused, torn between finally going somewhere outside, or continuing to revise. He stood up to decide the pros and cons of his situation, but looking around, he decided he should probably leave before he felt trapped by the four walls of his room. 

 

It was a complete tip, his clothes (he had decided to just sit in his pyjamas all day now, there was no point wasting time getting changed if he was going to stay in his house all day) that he had worn lying on the floor, crumpled. Evidence for the countless coffees that he must have drunk to stay awake was clear, from the stain on the carpet to the rings of brown liquid on top of his folders. Past papers were strewn over the floor, deposited there after he had finished them.

 

He was about to walk straight of his house and wander down the street to the Starbucks until he suddenly caught a sight of himself in the mirror. Staring at himself, Jean nearly didn't recognise the person he saw in front of him. Unshaven, eyes with heavier bags than his mother after a shopping trip, Jean clearly didn't look his best. He tried to smarten himself up by actually wearing a pair of trousers and a shirt, but he still had that 'hobo-from-the-train-station' look. 

 

Shrugging, he grabbed his wallet and stepped out of the house.

 

\-----

 

Marco was nervous. It had been weeks since he had seen Jean, and he wanted to try and reconcile with him. Admittedly the whole thing was entirely kinda Jean’s fault, but he knew he would be too arrogant to come back and apologise to Marco unless he took the first step. And so he decided to order the one thing that he knew would be guaranteed to cheer Jean up.

 

He ordered him a Starbucks coffee.

 

Naturally, Marco was worried about ordering it because it was a shit long order he didn’t want to mess it up and make Jean think he didn’t particularly care about him. But it should be fine, right? He had been with Jean so many times when he was ordering the coffee, so he wouldn’t mess it up at the last minute. 

 

Strolling nonchalantly towards the counter, he began his quest. 

 

_“Hi, could I get-”_

 

His mind blanked. Suddenly, he couldn’t remember the order. He had it written down on a piece of paper, and scrambled desperately for it, his fingers scrabbling for purchase. It slipped out of his fingers and suddenly he remembered.

 

It had just been a typical day with Jean, and the pair had decided to relax, taking the afternoon off exams. On these days, they always tended to share their food with each other and today, Marco had decided to bring along some gum (they had been getting closer, and if they were going to make out, he sure as hell wasn’t going to have bad breath). Jean had loudly demanded a piece, as he always did, until they realised there was only one piece left. 

 

Their gazes locked. Jean swallowed. They snapped into action, Jean almost climbing Marco to try and get hold of the wrapper. He didn’t realise that he was almost straddling Marco just to reach up to his height and his long arms. Suddenly they fell, and the gum slipped out form Marco’s fingers, just as the piece of paper slipped out now. 

 

Jean. The word in his mind connoted summer days, laughter. For some reason, Jean always used to think that he, Marco, was sunshine. _I mean after all, look at your face! You’ve got freckles. Don’t forget the dimples. Everybody knows that dimples are where angels kissed you._ Jean laughed, poking his face. 

 

The words tumbled from his mouth, as if he’d ordered the coffee countless times before. 

 

_“I want a venti soy milk iced skinny flavoured latte. With exactly 4 pumps of flavoured sugar free syrup, whipped cream, and a caramel drizzle on top.”_

The barista blinked. 

 

**“Sorry, what sir?”**

 

_“It’s for a friend, sorry. It’s a-”_

 

“A venti iced skinny flavoured latte with soy milk, 4 pumps of flavoured sugar free syrup, caramel drizzle and whipped cream.” A smooth voice behind him cut into Marco’s.

 

Marco spun round and was met with hazel eyes. 

 

_“Jean- I’m so sorry about-”_

 

“No no, don’t apologise, I’m the-”

 

_“But I should, I said-”_

 

“Seriously it’s fine, Marc-”

 

The two talked over each other, desperately trying to apologise. It was only after Jean’s order was finally made (on the third attempt) that they sat down to have a proper conversation.

 

“Look Marco, I’m really sorry I said that to you. Of course I didn’t mean it, there’s just so much exam stress that I get super rude, and I feel really bad.”

 

_“No don’t feel bad, Jean! I shouldn’t have invaded your little bubble!”_

 

“See, this is why you’re adorable.”

 

_“Than- huh?!”_

 

A light flush rose over Marco’s cheeks. 

 

 _“Adorable? I’m hardly that.”_ He muttered, pressing a hand to his cheek and feeling the heat of his blush. 

 

“Of course you are. You just don’t see it. You’re irritatingly tall-”

 

_“I’m only taller by 2 centimetres!”_

 

“- and for some reason you stumble over your own feet-”

 

_“Ahem, who had to carry whom for Hanji’s thing because they tripped?”_

 

“You’ve got fucking angel kisses on your face-”

 

_“Oh please, dimples aren’t even that cool.”_

 

“DON’T SAY THAT OF COURSE DIMPLES ARE AMAZING, and like how you always look after people in every situation-”

 

_“-I’m just trying to be helpful-”_

 

“and you even memorised my coffee order.”

 

Marco opened his mouth to retort, but nothing came out. That’s right. He had memorised it. When had he started paying so much attention to Jean?

 

“What I’m trying to say, Marco, is that I’m really sorry for being a douchebag, I’ll think I like you and I’ll try to be nicer.”

 

Marco whipped his head around. 

 

_“Wait, what? S-s-s-sorry, you like me? Why me?”_

 

Jean grinned.

 

“Well I think I knew I liked you when you explained tumblr to me- god, that was hilarious- and I definitely knew when I saw you ordering my exact coffee. And I was hoping if you’d go out with me.”

 

_“B-but aren’t you worried about your exams?”_

 

Jean rolled his eyes. 

 

“Well of course I am, so I was wondering if I could take you out after the exams?”

 

Marco gulped.

 

_“That’s if I survive them.”_

 

The two sat in the coffee shop, animatedly discussing their past few weeks and as they got up to leave, Jean couldn’t help himself. He stood up on his tiptoes and pressed a small kiss to Marco’s cheek.

 

Outside, Connie and Sasha just happened to be walking by. When they saw this, Sasha turned to Connie. They stared at each other. Suddenly there was a furry of hands as both suddenly demanded payment from the bets which they had made with ‘the gang,’ and how they were right- of course they would get together before the exams. The calls were only stopped as they paused to take a quick photo of them holding hands together- their evidence. They smirked at each other, and Sasha said one word.

 

**"Finally."**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ARGHHHHH HOLY SHIT ITS FINALLY DONE FFS IT ONLY TOOK ME SIX YEARS
> 
> wow if you're still reading this then umm thanks! 
> 
> pls pls pls comment and stuff if you want me to do a series of one-shots still in this particular au because i don't know if i should bother or not
> 
> hehe i feel like everyone *would* bet on how long it took them together (not if, whennn)
> 
> omg can you also write if you have any requests or anything because i literally lack inspiration for writing :( BUT OH WELL IT'S FINE SO THANKS FOR READING MY CRAP Y'ALLLL!!!!!!!!!

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea how often I'll be able to update this... I have school work and I'm meant to be revising for my GCSE's :3


End file.
